Soul Searching
by Lion in the Land
Summary: Bella's not the only girl Edward has ever written a song for. A short story told in four chapters. Okay fine, I'll admit it - this is my ode to Edward.
1. A Clearing

DISCLAIMER: The character of Edward Cullen and the 'magical meadow' are borrowed from the Twilight series of books by Stephenie Meyer. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Soul Searching

Quote from Edward in Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer (pp. 276-277) – "In my world, I was already a man. I wasn't looking for love……but if I had found…" He paused, cocking his head to the side.' Edward explains away the pause as simply a matter of word selection. This story, however, proposes a deeper reason for the pause. A reason that Edward was not fully aware of at the time.

I think this story takes place between the final chapter of Eclipse and the epilogue. Let me know if you think differently.

Chapter 1

A Clearing

I sat at the edge of a magical meadow. It had appeared suddenly in the middle of the forest; I'd noticed an unexpected lightness coming from between a set of trees and was drawn to it. I stepped between two towering, moss covered trunks and there it was – a long grassy meadow, replete with jewel-colored flowers that seemed to light up the overcast day.

I'd been hiking for a while, looking for the perfect spot to stop and meditate, and this was it. My first thought was to set up in the middle of the clearing, but something stopped me. Perhaps it was because I didn't want to stain the scenery with my human presence. Instead I dropped my thick pack at the edge of the trees, pulled out my meditation mat, and sat on it cross-legged with the charming clearing spread out before me.

Inhale. Exhale. Heart rate slowing. Body relaxing. Whenever I meditated I tried to picture a beautiful and peaceful scene. I didn't have to work my imagination at all that day, because the scene I'd just closed my eyes on was now firmly emblazoned behind my lids. My mind became a pleasantly warm bowl of mush as I shut out all external stimulation and simply existed.

Typically I would set a timer to make sure I didn't over meditate, but that day it didn't matter; I had nothing on the agenda until dusk, and it was still morning. As I naturally came out of the stupor, I saw that the faint glow of the sun, barely visible through the thick, hazy sky, had made about two hours' progress over the clearing. The next thing I noticed was that I was no longer alone.

Someone was in the middle of the clearing, and I saw that I'd been completely wrong about a human presence staining the scenery. If anything, the clearing was more stunning _because_ of his presence. He was beautiful.

Without moving a muscle, I watched this elegant figure stretch out his arms and tilt his smooth, ivory face up toward the sky as if in prayer. He stood still as a statue. Was that what reminded me of the sculpted Greek gods I'd seen all over Europe? Or was it his Adonis-like pectorals, pressing against his shirt? Either way, a sigh escaped me, and everything changed.

In a movement so quick that I didn't even see it, the stranger's stance changed into a defensive, cat-like crouch. His back arched and his fingers splayed as if they had claws. Even from the distance, his almost glowing eyes pierced me. I heard a low growl coming from his direction. Oh no, did he have a pit bull or something with him?

In my panic, I had jumped off my mat and was now holding it protectively in front of me, because, you know, a foam mat would be extremely helpful in fighting off psycho attacks and vicious killer pets. My heart thundered in my chest, and I would have screamed, but my now paralyzed body wouldn't let me.

After staring me down for what seemed like an eternity, the stranger relaxed his stance and apologized. "Please forgive me," he said in a voice that immediately put me a tiny bit at ease. There was no way that a smooth, melodic voice like that could belong to a psycho attack killer.

"I didn't see you there, and you caught me quite by surprise," he explained.

"Oh, uh, sorry," I said, still holding my mat in front of me. My brain hadn't yet told my white knuckles to loosen their grip.

"How long have you been there?" he asked, stepping closer.

"Um," I said, squinting my eyes up toward the sky to remind myself of where my mind had been before I thought I was going to die. "A couple hours, I think."

He raised a dark eyebrow that, like his deep reddish-brown hair, contrasted quite nicely with his fair complexion. "You were here before I arrived," he stated, coming carefully closer.

"Uh huh," I eloquently confirmed.

It wasn't the residual fear that had me so befuddled; it was – _him_. His otherworldly presence was not at all diminished by his now close proximity. Every feature was smooth and straight and perfect. His defined lips curved into just the right shape, and his thick, gorgeous hair tousled onto his forehead in just the right spots. His eyes were a deep butterscotch, shattered into a thousand little layered bits. Once you looked into those eyes, you became lost in their depths and it was extremely difficult to look away.

It wasn't just his appearance that made him special; it was the way he so fluidly moved, the way he so elegantly spoke, and the way he so attentively watched, as if every move I made was important to him. At that moment, his angelic lips were pursed and his glorious eyes were narrowed. Something about me clearly bothered him, and I sincerely hoped it was in my power to correct whatever that was.

"I am surprised I didn't notice you here," he finally said. "I usually have a very good sense about these things and know when something unfamiliar is about."

"I was sitting here in the shadows, so you wouldn't have seen me," I explained. "And I was meditating, so you wouldn't have heard me either."

"Meditating," he said to himself. He seemed to consider the word for a few moments and then said, "You must be very good." He continued to study me with perplexity and said, "Even now, something seems so familiar about you. Have ever visited here before?"

"Never. I'm from Chicago, and I've never been this far west before."

His steady gaze turned somewhat suspicious, and he asked, "What brings you here now?" He watched me intently as I answered.

"Urm, well, I'm not sure exactly. My ultimate goal is Alaska; I'm meeting friends at the end of the week in Seattle and we'll travel up together by ferry. Instead of flying with them to Seattle, I wanted to make my way west by land, sort of a Jack Kerouac thing. I've been traveling for three weeks now, and I've seen lots of amazing places, but something kept pushing me forward, and I've arrived in Washington a few days early."

He nodded his head slightly, as if accepting my answer. His expression took on a somewhat friendlier tone, but was still reserved. "I didn't see a car on the highway," he noted.

"No, I don't have a car. I'm traveling by bus and hiking…"

"Hitchhiking," he said. He looked at me through a corner of his narrowed golden eye in a disapproving manner.

"Some, but I'm being safe about it. I did my homework," I said defensively.

"So, you still haven't told me – why Forks?"

"Forks?"

"The name of the nearest town."

"Forks? Who names a town after eating utensils?" I asked. "Speaking of names -I'm Gina Gardner," I said, extending my hand toward his. He flinched and drew his hand back, quickly shoving it into his pocket.

"Gina, why are you here?" he asked firmly, not letting himself be sidetracked. I wasn't stalling because I was trying to hide something; I just didn't know how to explain why I was there when I didn't exactly understand it myself. But there was something in his authoritative tone that told me I'd better answer directly this time.

I tried to sort my thoughts to give this stranger a comprehensible account of why I happened to be in that specific forest on that specific day. I'm not sure I succeeded. "Some people I met in Idaho told me how pretty La Push was, so that's actually where I was headed. But as we drove up the highway and we reached this part of the forest, I just got this strange feeling and asked the driver to stop and let me out," I shrugged.

"He only agreed because it was so early in the day, and he figured it'd be easy enough for me to catch a safe ride the rest of the way. I was actually kind of starting to hyperventilate a little when I thought he wouldn't stop, so that's why I decided to take a mediation break."

The stranger nodded again in acceptance of my answer. Now that I took a better look at this guy, I saw that despite his refined mannerisms, he wasn't any older than I was. He was probably even younger. So why should I feel like I had to answer to him?

He suddenly smirked and said, "Enough of the interrogation. Welcome to Forks. I'm Edward, Edward Cullen."

He hadn't pulled his hand from his pocket, but his wide smile was welcoming, and the mood between us immediately relaxed. As we talked, we'd wandered into the clearing and now stood in soft grass surrounded by flowers. It was quite a romantic picture.

"Nice to meet you, Edward Cullen," I said, smiling invitingly at him.

I scanned his figure and was struck by his impeccably neat appearance. It contrasted considerably with mine, which was a bit more worn and outdoorsy.

"Did you fly in here?" I asked. He responded with a questioning look. "You're so clean and refreshed looking. And there's no way you hiked here in those shoes," I explained.

He glanced down at his crisp clothing, and his expression told me that I might have caught him in something. "I know all the secret shortcuts," he explained, quickly masking his angel face in smugness. "And my mother taught me that a gentleman always looks his best," he added for good measure.

"Ah, so it's better to look mahvelous than to feel mahvelous," I said.

"Pardon?"

"Never mind." I had to remind myself that not everyone used to spend so much time watching old eighties TV.

I've already expounded on Edward's charms. What I haven't told you yet is that I myself was an attractive girl. I'm not being conceited; it was a fact. A fact that had been verified by many an admirer. A fact that that I appreciated every time I looked in the mirror. Okay, maybe _that_ was a bit conceited.

Well then, let's just say this -- I had pale blue/green eyes and a healthy, smooth complexion that covered a facial structure defined by high, rounded cheekbones and full lips -- and you be the judge. In those days I wore my straight, nearly jet-black hair in a short bob that complemented my curved features and set my eyes sparkling. Simple facts.

So there we were, a hyper-attractive male and an attractive female, alone in a forest clearing on a temperate, if overcast day......and nothing was happening, other than polite dialogue. This guy hadn't even given a hint of flirtation. I reflected on the way Edward had flinched when I'd reached out to shake his hand and his apparent preference for fashion over practicality. Damn - he was gay.

As I thought these things, a spontaneous smile burst onto Edward's face. I wasn't sure what had caused the smile, but I was glad it had come and basked in its glory. Gay or not, he was an amazingly beautiful creature.

The combination of my involuntary cardio workout and the approach of afternoon made me uncomfortably warm. I slipped off my jacket, uncovering a small scoop neck t-shirt that revealed a decent amount of flesh. As I tied the jacket around my waist, I saw Edward's eyes briefly flick down, examining the change of wardrobe. He looked back up with a hunger in his eye and a corner of his mouth drawn up in a small smirk of admiration. Hmm, maybe he _did_ like girls after all.

Edward shook his head slightly, and his face resumed its more reserved aspect. I realized that I should probably leave Edward to the solitude that he had obviously sought here, but there was something about his presence that held me there. I noticed the wire from an mp3 player hanging out of his pocket and commented on it, grasping at anything that would keep the conversation going and allow me to stay with him a little longer.

"Hey, I never go anywhere without mine either," I said, smiling brightly and digging my player out of my pocket. "What were you listening to?"

Edward's smile looked a bit mischievous as he said, "Have a listen."

He handed his player to me, and I noticed that he was very careful that we didn't touch. Maybe he was some sort of germophobe. I slipped on the ear phones, and a classical piano piece played in my ears. I looked with surprise and admiration at Edward; he was definitely the most evolved male I'd ever met.

"Wow," I said, feeling a bit inferior. I decided to skip sharing my retro punk tunes with him. I didn't recognize the song, which wasn't surprising since I rarely listened to classical music. It was very pretty with many levels coming together to create a magical sound. It reminded me of Edward's voice.

As I continued listening, the chords began to feel like more than just a song; it was as if they were trying to tell me something. I looked at Edward, who was tentatively watching me as I listened. He smiled and our eyes locked. I was suddenly gripped by a vaguely familiar, but unwelcome emotion. Hot tears sprang to my eyes, and my heart began to pump ferociously. My hands flew to the headphones, and I ripped them out and thrust the player back at Edward.

He looked at me with surprise and concern and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," I said, shaking my head back and forth as I tried to stem the flow of tears with the sleeve of my jacket. "I just…that song."

I'd not stopped the player, and Edward now held one of the headphones to his ear. His dark eyebrows furrowed and his perfect lips pressed together in thought. I was pretty sure he must be starting to think that I was missing a few screws, so I tried to offer up a plausible explanation.

"I guess it must be dredging up some sort of memory from the last time I heard it."

"You've never heard this song before," he said decisively, cutting me off. I snapped my head toward him with a scowl – how could he _know_ that so positively when I wasn't even sure? "You couldn't have heard it before, because I wrote it," he explained.

"You wrote it?" I asked in a thick, teary voice.

"Yes," a very long time ago.

"What, when you were like ten?"

"Not quite that long ago," he said, examining me quizzically.

"Look, I know you must think I'm nuts. Maybe I am, but, well, I'm usually a very happy, well-adjusted person. It's just sometimes…ugh, you don't want to hear this," I said, realizing that he was a complete stranger who certainly had better things to do than talk me through a minor breakdown. Besides, talking about it was just encouraging more tears.

Edward said in his soothing, melodic voice, "I do want to hear it, Gina. Please tell me."

I thought about how unusual it was to find such caring concern in a complete stranger. Then I took a deep breath and decided to trust him. "Okay. But remember, it doesn't happen that often. What I was trying to say is that sometimes I get overwhelmed with sadness. I'm pretty sure it's not depression because it doesn't last very long. It's more like I just feel like…like I'm a hundred years old or something. Like I belong in another time, another place. Does that make any sense?"

Edward didn't say anything, but stood with his beautiful head tilted to the side, watching me closely with his amber eyes and listening intently to every word I said.


	2. Torture

Chapter 2

Torture

When it was clear that Edward was not going to respond, I continued trying to explain why his song had affected me. I was explaining as much to myself as to him.

"Anyhow, I just get overwhelmed with sadness and loneliness sometimes. The first time it happened I was probably about seventeen. I never know when it's going to happen. For some reason that song you wrote brought it out today."

The fresh memory of the song brought fresh tears. I looked through the blur to see Edward's reaction to what I'd told him. He was gazing off into the trees in thought. His eyes flicked back onto me and he said, "Tell me more. Anything else you can think of."

The earnestness of his request compelled me to go on. I searched my mind for anything new that I could add. "Um, well, there was this one time, I was camping with friends during break from college, and we were out in the middle of this forest in Wisconsin. I was completely stoned -"

Edward gave me a reproving glance, and I said, "I know, stupid. I don't do that anymore. But that night I had sort of a connection with the forest. The tall trees were old, from another time, like I felt…_feel_ sometimes.

"Ever since then I've had this trip into the western wilderness in mind. It's been like a yearning to be somewhere that was here before all of us. I guess I'm hoping it will reconcile my normal self with this very old person somewhere deep inside me."

Edward continued to examine me curiously.

"So, what's the verdict - I'm crazy, right?" I asked while a few final tears ran down my face. Edward held a fingertip to my cheek and scooped up the last. I felt a blazing trail on my face where his elegant finger had traced. He gave me a warm, kind smile. "Don't tell me you can possibly understand any of this," I said.

"As a matter of fact…" he said, smiling a small, crooked smile and raising a perfect eyebrow, "I might. When I wrote that song, the inspiration came from something buried inside me. From a different life, a long time ago."

His expression turned serious, and he gently touched his unnaturally cold fingers to mine, sending a shiver up my arm. Meanwhile, a cool mist was creeping into the clearing from the trees, closing in on us.

Edward tilted his head forward and watched me through his long eyelashes. He gently said, "Tell me more about how my song made you feel."

Thinking about the song was difficult, but for some reason I wanted to tell this stranger everything. I thought for a moment and said, "Sometimes, when I'm feeling the sadness, it's like I've lost something. It's missing and I'm looking for it, but I never find it. When I was listening to your song, and you smiled at me...I felt…like I'd found it…"

I hadn't realized that that's what I'd been feeling until I'd said it out loud. My voice had trailed off as the emotion – whether it was sadness or joy at finding what I'd been looking for – began to swell in me again. It threatened to consume me, to take me over completely.

Edward gazed intently at me, and I was drawn into his eyes, unable to look away. The more intensely Edward and I stared at each other, the stronger the overwhelming emotion became. I forced my eyes away from Edward's and tried to take a step away from him, but he swiftly grabbed my arm and twisted me so that our faces were inches apart. His demeanor had changed dramatically to one of rage and desperation, and his fist threatened to snap my arm in two.

"Tell me," he hissed with his teeth bared.

I should have felt frightened. Instead my anger flared, wiping out all previous thoughts. Edward growled in frustration and flung my arm away. I rubbed the fresh bruises that resulted from his vice-like grip and let the fury seize me.

"Damnit Edward! Do you think you can simply flash those beautiful eyes and everything will be magically perfect? That's not how life works!" I shouted blindly without knowing what I was saying. It felt like a déjà vu of some past fight with Edward that had never happed.

My eyes burned on him. His chiseled features wore a stricken look at my words, as if I'd just ripped a sharp branch from one of the surrounding trees and driven it through his heart. As quickly as my outburst had flamed, it was swallowed up by a sudden fear of losing Edward.

Again seemingly from a source outside of my control, I gasped, "Edward, don't go!" and lunged to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face in his solid chest. His arms immediately wound tightly around me.

After standing this way for a long while, I felt my sanity slowly seep back in. I didn't know anything about this person, so why had I been so desperate not to lose him a moment ago? Something very strange was happening to me, and it had everything to do with Edward Cullen. My brain told me to get away from him, just turn and run through the trees as fast as I could, but an iron anchor had settled into the center of my chest and held me right where I was.

I whispered in a frightened voice, "What's happening?"

"I don't know," he answered. The calm control had returned to his voice. "But it seems we've met before. Somehow…" His mystical voice trailed off into the forest.

Edward didn't speak again for what seemed like several minutes. I lifted my head from his chest to look at him. His face was screwed up in concentration, and something told me not to interrupt.

"Have you always lived in Chicago?" he finally asked.

"My whole life; except for when I went away to school," I answered.

"Your family then, they are originally from Chicago?" he asked carefully.

"On my mother's side, yes. They go back for generations."

Something flickered in his eye when he asked, "Are you familiar with the Marshals, a prominent Chicago family?"

"You mean as in chocolate factories and museum wings?" I asked, somewhat dumfounded.

He stood completely still, and his eyes bored holes into me as he cautiously said, "Yes."

"This is unbelievable!" I gushed. My face broke into a huge grin that felt wonderful compared to the strained tension it had replaced. "My great grandma Ava was from the very same Marshal family! I can't believe you'd know about them all the way out here."

Behind Edward's slightly plastered smile, I detected a stronger emotion boiling beneath the surface. I was confused and asked, "Does that have something to do with all of this, today?"

"That song – the one that upset you," he began and stopped.

"Yeah," I coaxed.

He grabbed my eyes with his and said with complete earnestness, "I think I may have written it for your great grandmother." I began to be afraid that my earlier psycho assessment hadn't been entirely off base; Edward was obviously mentally unstable. He didn't seem to pay any attention to my newly wary stance and asked, "May I try something?"

It felt like more of a command than a request. Despite his gentle tone, his face had taken on a fierceness that I felt powerless to disobey.

Without waiting for an answer, he put his earphones back on me and started the song again, the same one that had overwhelmed me earlier. The lilting melody played, and my melancholy returned, squeezing at my chest so that I was forced to take shallow breaths.

I instinctively reached for the earphones to tear them out, but quick as lightning, Edward's hand was at my throat, and his eyes flared out of control. He choked all breath out of me, and I stared at him with wide, terrified eyes while the continuous melody disappeared into the back of my consciousness.

After a moment, Edward recollected himself and relaxed his grip. He dropped his hand from my throat but held fast to each of my elbows, trapping them at my sides. The torturous song floated back to the forefront of my mind, and I became desperate to get away from it. I tried to fight back, but the only movement I could accomplish was to reach my forearms up and try to dig my nails into Edward's iron arms.

Touching Edward seemed to magnify my instability. I knew I was losing my struggle against the now deep and somber notes of the song; they were overtaking me. My grip slackened, and I stared helplessly into the deranged angel's intense, amber eyes while tears streamed down my face.

"Edward, please," I pleaded in a half whisper.

He didn't respond but stood eerily still and watched me……watched me lose my mind. The next hour or so was lost to me. I blacked out, and when I came to, I was kissing Edward's cold lips.


	3. Ava Marshal

Chapter 3

Ava Marshal

I can tell you precisely what happened during Gina's lost hour. This is Ava Marshal speaking. If we're going to be technically correct, it's actually Gina doing the speaking, but it's coming from a part of her over which she has little control. A part that is buried deep inside of her and had never before gotten so close to the surface.

"Ava?" Edward said_, _carefulnot to release my arms or remove the earphones until I answered with a silent, affirmative nod of my head. I was silent because my throat clenched with emotion at being so close to Edward again, and it was several minutes before I was able to speak.

This was my Edward. His skin was sallower than it had been, and his eyes were not quite right, but still beautiful. His bronze hair was now cut in a modern style, of course, and his physique was more bulky than the thin Edward that I remembered. Yet these were his long, straight features, and these were his inviting lips that now twisted into his famous crooked smile.

It didn't even matter what he looked like; I would have known Edward anywhere from the way he regarded me with tender possessiveness and unyielding love. A love I fully returned. He ran his cold fingertips over my prominent cheekbone and traced his thumb slowly over my full lips, features I knew that I had passed on to my great granddaughter.

"I should have known," he murmured.

I reached my hand up to touch his fingers, and I kissed his thumb as it made another pass. "Edward, you did know. You do know," I said, finding my voice.

We stood staring into each other's shining eyes with playful, unbelieving smiles on our lips, until Edward finally asked, "How are you here?"

I felt as if a magical spell had broken and it was now time to face reality. In an anguished voice I told him, "Oh Edward, that fight, that terrible fight we had. My stubbornness ruled for two full days afterwards before I finally admitted to myself that I'd been wrong.

"But pride kept me from running directly to you. I had rather expected that you would have come to me by then, and I began to worry that perhaps you counted yourself lucky to be free of me."

It was clear from Edward's intent gaze that he had no intention of interrupting my narrative until I'd had completely out with it, so I continued. "After one week I swallowed my pride and decided it was time to find out where your heart lie, one way or the other. Some men stopped my carriage at the edge of your neighborhood, and I jumped out to see what the problem was. I was informed that the entire neighborhood had been quarantined because of a breakout of the Spanish influenza, which had taken the lives of two entire families on your street. It was with a trembling heart that I asked to be told the names of those families.

"Oh, Edward, when I heard your family's name spoken, I couldn't accept it and would have fallen into the dirt and never risen again if I hadn't been caught by my driver, who had stepped to my side as a precaution in the rough neighborhood. For three days I cried and refused all offers of nourishment.

"One night when I overheard my mother and father speaking with the doctor regarding harsh means of bringing me out of my stupor, I resolved in myself that, though I'd been given a harsh turn, I must persevere and accept my lot.

"But I never forgot you Edward, and I never forgave myself for those wicked words I spoke to you." Edward opened his mouth as if about to say something, but I plunged on with my explanation, not wishing to be interrupted on that point just yet. First I needed Edward to understand the depth of my sorrow.

"I died in childbirth with my third child, and I was blessed with acceptance into heaven," I said with a sparkle in my eyes. "It was, of course, more than I ever could have imagined. One of my immediate, joyful thoughts was that I could be with you again and finally ask your forgiveness. It wasn't long before I realized that you were not there. I was certain that our souls would have called to each other upon my arrival, but you never came.

"Naturally, my first thought was that you hadn't made it, that you were…somewhere else. I banished these thoughts immediately because I knew that my dear, kind, good Edward's soul could belong nowhere else but heaven. Still, I became fretful and continued my pointless search, upsetting many another soul. I was agitated because I had unresolved business here on earth.

"I was offered the opportunity to settle my soul by continuing my search on earth. My daughter, the one whom I died giving birth to, lived and hadn't yet been christened, so I was allowed to come back and occupy a small corner of her soul. I was given no control, but was simply a passenger. I learned over time how to give Marion gentle prods in an attempt to sway her in a certain direction, but these prompts were generally ineffective. Whenever Marion sensed something unbalanced within her, she resorted to a strong sleeping draught and slept for hours on end. She never even left Chicago.

"Needless to say, throughout the course of Marion's life I never discovered what had happened to you. On returning to our Father upon her death, my despondency at your absence had not decreased an ounce. As luck would have it, Marion's granddaughter, my great-granddaughter Gina, was born within a few weeks of my return, and I was again allowed to travel the earth in her soul.

"As I believe you have discovered," I said with a fond smile, "my Gina's spirit is a bit livelier than was Marion's, much more like my own. I'm not the least bit surprised that Gina was the one to bring me to you, and at such a young age! She has been much more responsive to my prodding. She has a very stubborn soul, however, and resisted me whenever I became too strong. Of course, she only resisted because she has no knowledge of any of this.

"But you, Edward, you knew I was here, and you succeeded in bringing me out," I beamed at him; surely this was proof that after all this time, Edward still cared for me as much as I still cared for him.

I touched my lips to Edward's cold jaw and watched his eyelids clamp down when he felt my soft kiss. In that moment of contact, I intrinsically understood what had happened to Edward - what he had become and why he hadn't joined me in the afterlife. In the anguish that I read in his long, straight features, I further understood the tortures he faced every day as he resisted his strong, natural temptations in order to live the way he knew was right.

I stepped back from him and placed a hand on each of his arms. He slowly opened his eyes, and I could see by their calm relief that he knew I understood.

"Now I know," I said simply and smiled gently at him.

"Ava," he asked anxiously, "are there…did you see the souls of anyone like me there?"

"I honestly don't know, Edward," I answered. "We don't see each other in categories in heaven; we're all one and the same."

His face clouded over, unsatisfied with my answer. While I watched him form more questions in his mind, a sigh as thin at the mist that surrounded us broke through my lips, and I knew our remaining time was limited.

"Please, Edward, let's not spend our time discussing things I cannot tell you."

He clenched his teeth together but nodded his acquiescence.

"Edward, the reason I'm here, the reason I've been searching all these years is to tell you how sorry I am-" My voice broke and tears welled in the corners of my eyes. I clasped both of his frigid hands in mine and tried again. I'd waited nearly a century to say this; I was going to get through it.

I took a deep breath and continued shakily, "I am so very sorry for the things I said to you that last day. Those were my father's words, not mine, and I was a fool to use them. I could never have deserved better than you, because you were the best…the very best…" My voice faltered again as I was overtaken by tears.

Edward pulled a hand from mine to roughly stroke my hair. He was no longer able to cry, but I heard tears in his voice when he said, "I know, I know. I always knew." Edward pushed the hair from my forehead and laid his lips there, whispering, "Hush."

He kept his mouth pressed to me until I calmed down. Then he laid my head to rest at the nape of his neck, while he continued stroking my hair and explained, "Until today you have only been a vague shadow of a memory to me. When I wrote that song, the one for you, it was strictly based on the cloudy memory of feelings that never left me. I didn't begin to understand that it was written for you until you jumped out at me today through Gina's eyes while she listened to it. In bits and pieces, the clear memory resurfaced."

He squeezed me tighter and said, "I can't believe you're here. You know, you were never going to be rid of me. Even while you were saying those words on that terrible day, I knew they weren't yours. I was angry but not at you. The moment you left me, I began devising schemes to keep us together, because I knew we belonged to each other. I was going to win you back."

After a brief pause, Edward added bitterly, "Unfortunately, God had other plans for us, didn't he?"

I nodded my tearstained face and looked up at him. He gently wiped my tears and held my face in his strong hands. I was overjoyed that he'd forgiven me, but I didn't want him to be angry with God.

"You know that I moved on, Edward," I said. "I was married to a wonderful man and had three children. I had a short, but good life. Your life has been long, Edward. Has it been good?"

"Not always," he said darkly. Then the clouds broke on his handsome features and a small, wistful smile curled the corners of his mouth. "But lately it has been very good. I never thought I'd love anyone again, but I've found someone. She's a remarkable girl and accepts me for exactly who, _what_, I am."

I was sincerely happy for Edward, but I didn't want to take up our precious time talking about this other person. Vanity, however, overcame me, and I wondered if she was anything like me.

"She's actually nothing like you," he said in answer to my unasked question.

I smiled in satisfaction. "Good. Don't ever replace me, Edward," I said, half warning, half pleading.

"I doubt that I could even if I tried," he said with a reassuring smile. "There's no one in all this world quite like my Ava."

As he looked down at me, a sly look crept across his features. "You know, with you standing here, all sorts of memories are coming back to me. Do you remember that night, behind Saint Patrick's church?" he asked quietly, setting loose a lecherous grin.

My blush told him that I'd been remembering that night – quite vividly - for one hundred years.

We stood staring at each other in this manner - not lamenting the time we had lost together on earth, but happy to have been brought together again, even for a brief time. Another sigh uttered forth from my mouth, and this time Edward seemed to understand what it meant. A glimmer of panic raced through his eyes.

Edward slid his hands to the back of my arms and gripped me tightly, pulling me to him. "Ava, I _must_ know. You must tell me – is there any hope for me? Do I have a soul?" he asked urgently.

"Edward," I said calmly, laying a soft hand from his sharp cheekbone to his jaw, "It wasn't this beautiful face that called me forward. Neither was it your song. It was your soul that brought me here. It called me all the way from Chicago and gave me the strength to emerge today. It's the only thing that could have done it."

His eyes glimmered in appreciation at what I had told him, but doubt still lingered. "Can it be saved?" he asked quietly, nervously.

As much as I wanted to tell him what he needed to hear, Salvation was not a promise that I could make. "It's not for us to know," I explained sadly. I could hardly bear watching the anguish settle back into Edward's features. The best I could do for him was to tell him what I honestly believed.

"Dear," I said as I kissed Edward's cheek, "kind," as I stretched on tiptoes to kiss the bridge of his nose, "good," as I kissed the corner of his mouth, "Edward."

I stood silent for a moment and stared into his eyes, which shone brilliant green to me. I knew such intimate proximity with a human must normally make it extremely difficult for him to fight his natural instincts to kill, but the glimmer of green in his shining eyes told me that the part of him that had been human was in command while I was near.

"I don't see how God can ignore this heroic faith of yours that allows you to forsake every evil instinct in favor of what is good," I told him. "Surely you've been tested as much as any human that ever walked this earth, and God knows what you've sacrificed for Him."

I watched hope creep into Edward's countenance, although he kept his brow furrowed, as if afraid to hope too much. Another ethereal sigh escaped me, this one longer and slightly more pronounced than the last; I was leaving.

"Ava," Edward said fervently.

"Edward," I whispered. I clenched my fingers around his neck and we brought our mouths together in a kiss more passionate than any we'd shared while we were mere mortals. It carried all the desire we'd ever felt for each other and so much more. It compacted one hundred years of searching, longing, and forgiveness. It spoke of a final earthly goodbye and promised a future reunion.

I finally understood what had happened to my Edward. The next time I was fortunate enough to reach heaven, I was confident that I would stay, and I very much expected to meet Edward there one day. Now it was just a matter of directing Gina's exuberant spirit the right way to make sure we got there. A final sigh escaped me, and I slid back into the recesses of my great granddaughter's soul.


	4. Gina Again

Chapter 4

Gina Again

My consciousness came back to me, and I was standing in the middle of the misty forest clearing, kissing Edward's cold lips. Something felt right about that kiss, but something felt very wrong about it too, almost as if it was meant for someone else.

I stepped back and said, "Edward, we can't…"

"I know," he said gently as he brushed the hair from my face with his fingertips and gave me a peaceful smile. The soft radiance of his smile caught me off guard and sent any cohesive thoughts I may have had careening throughout the clearing. It was several minutes before the pieces of my mind gradually began moving back into place.

Okay…obviously _something_ had happened during my little journey into oblivion. Something that had considerably increased my chances of living. But what? Edward continued to regard me silently with a playfulness dancing in his eye.

"You're not going to tell me a damn thing, are you?" I said with conviction.

He shook his head 'no' and kept his tasty lips pressed together in a poorly repressed smile. Normally such evasive teasing would have driven me back to the brink of insanity, but I couldn't work up an ounce of agitation; ever since regaining consciousness, I felt settled, content. But something was telling me that it was time to go.

"Right then," I said as I walked toward my giant backpack and hoisted it up. "I suppose the least you can do is give me a lift to La Push?" I said hopefully.

His face darkened, and my insides fell as I worried that scary Edward was going to make a comeback.

"Why La Push?" he asked in a blessedly reasonable voice. "The Olympic Peninsula has many more worthy sites to visit. The Olympic National Forest is just east of here. Or the Olympic Mountains – that would be on your way to Seattle."

"Wow, a composer and a travel agent too," I said sarcastically. "Look, if you don't want to give me a ride, fine. Just kiss me and leave me to fend for myself if that's the kind of guy you are." Somehow I knew that wasn't the kind of guy he was and that my little dig would get me where I needed to go.

"I strongly recommend that you don't go to La Push. There's a dangerous element there--"

"Buh bye, Edward," I said, cutting him off and turning to walk into the forest.

He was at my side in a split second, gripping my arm to stop me. "I see you are not to be persuaded," he said as he peered into my determined eyes. "I can take you as far as the border, but that's it."

"Fine," I shrugged, trying to temper my smug grin.

"But you have to promise me that you will keep your distance from a group of locals that could be dangerous. It's a gang. You'll know them when you see them – tall, muscular, _unnaturally_ muscular," he said with his eyes steady on me, making sure I was listening.

"Hmm," I murmured suggestively. "La Push gets more appealing all the time."

"Be serious, Av-, Gina. Keep your distance from them. There is no 'could' about it - they _are_ extremely dangerous."

"Fine," I repeated, not so smug this time.

Edward retained his grip on my arm, but his face softened. His eyes traveled over my features, and he said gently, "Thank you for coming here today." He touched his cool lips to my forehead, which had wrinkled in confusion.

"You're welcome?" I replied.

This quirky behavior seemed to be a fitting end to my strange day with Edward. It was a good thing for him that he was so good-looking, because it certainly helped make up for his oddities. I'd probably follow his advice on steering clear of the ruffians in La Push, though; I'd had my fill of dangerous strangers for one day.

Little did I know as we departed the mystical clearing and began our trek through the forest to Edward's car, that the first human I'd come face-to-face with in La Push would be one of those very ruffians. And when I saw him, he would knock me - quite literally - off my feet.

La Push was going to be _very_ interesting…

THE END


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